Omi and the Terrible, Horrible
by 7thstory
Summary: ...You know the rest. Omi has, well, a terrible, horrible, nogood, very bad day. For the 30kisses community on LiveJournal. [Oneshot. Crossdressing, preslash, and extreme bad luck.]


The "thanks for the gardenia" is in reference to my previous fic, "Wishes". Everyone seemed to want Ken's reaction to the gardenia, so here it is. (Yes, I am being vague on purpose.)

Um, I started this story almost a year ago because I thought that the idea of "Omi and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day" was funny. And then Tasoka-chan wanted Omi in a schoolgirl uniform. I don't even know if Omi's school _has_ uniforms, but please pretend that they do, okay? ;

I recently began working on it again when I realized that "excessive chain" (one of the 30kisses themes) could refer to events, but I didn't know how to end it until people began asking to know what happened after Ken got the gardenia.   So, that's how this piece of madness came about.

Anyway!

Warnings: Um, crossdressing and, well, a really bad day.

Disclaimer: Weiß Kreuz is owned by people who are waaaay more awesome than I am.

_---Omi and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day---_

If there was a sound in the world more unpleasant than the grating beep of a digital alarm clock, then Omi Tsukiyono had yet to hear it. However, on the morning in question, he discovered that silence can be even _more_ troubling.

By the time he thought to wonder what time it was, he had fifteen minutes left to get to school.

Five of those minutes he wasted, ironically, by looking for his watch, which had apparently decided that today would be the perfect day to explore the world.

Giving up, Omi flew out of his room. He ran down the stairs, narrowly avoiding a nasty fall by hopping over Yohji's shoes, which were placed dead center on the third step from the bottom.

The breeze he created by running through the kitchen ruffled the papers attached to the refrigerator.

"Oi, Omi, cutting it a little close, aren't you?"

"Can't talk now, Ken!" Omi didn't even bother looking behind him as he slammed the door. He'd feel bad about it later, when he wasn't totally focused on reaching his school in time.

Unfortunately, after running two red lights and driving the wrong way down a one-way street, Omi was still late to school.

As this was only his first offense, he was given a stern reprimand and sent to his seat.

Halfway through the English lesson, Omi's stomach began growling. Noisily. Of those students close enough to hear it, three shot him glances that were half-worried, half-annoyed. Omi blushed and sank three inches lower in his seat.

Lunch was two hours, fifteen minutes and thirty-nine seconds away.

Omi managed to survive without further incident until Math, the last lesson before lunch.

That was when he realized that his Geometry textbook was sitting comfortably on the couch in the living room at home.

Omi's teacher, upon coming to the same realization, promptly ordered him to look on with Kojima, the boy who had the seat next to Omi. Incidentally, Kojima also had a personality akin to that of an annoyed crocodile.

He glared at Omi over the frames of his glasses, as though daring the blond to even glance in the direction of his textbook.

Omi sighed. It was going to be a long ninety minutes.

When at last the class was dismissed, Omi headed gratefully for the cafeteria. He took his customary place in the lunch line and reached into his pocket.

It was empty.

Cursing inwardly, Omi stepped out of the line and went in search of someone likely to take pity on a hungry classmate with no more than pocket lint to his name.

Fifteen minutes and seventeen people later, Omi had gathered three sticks of Pocky and enough loose change to buy a drink from one of the cafeteria's vending machines.

"_Better than nothing,"_ he thought. He dropped the coins into the slot of a promising-looking machine. It beeped cheerfully as it counted the change. Omi selected the button for an energy drink and depressed it.

The machine emitted a series of ominous rumbles and screeches, which finally ended in a loud "thunk".

Omi reached into the machine.

No drink.

As Omi stood, blinking, a janitor approached and stuck a piece of paper to the front of the machine.

**_OUT OF ORDER._**

"Sorry, kid," he said.

That was when Omi decided that the universe hated him.

The worst thing that happened to him during his afternoon classes was that his pencil ran out of lead, and he was forced to ask Kojima for a piece. This wasn't exactly pleasant, as it took Omi five whole minutes to convince Kojima to give him the lead, but it could have been a lot worse. This made Omi nervous. He had the distinct feeling that the universe was saving up its hatred for some stroke of extremely bad luck.

Under ordinary circumstances, this could have been termed paranoia. In this case, Omi was right to be worried.

As it happened, the universe had chosen three of Omi's classmates to be the bearers of his misfortune. Omi didn't know Ishikawa, Morimoto or Tachibana very well—it was the first year he'd been in any of their classes—but he'd spoken to each of them a few times, and he'd always thought that they were nice enough girls.

He began to doubt his assessment of their characters when they cornered him after class.

"Tsukiyono-kun, we have a favor we'd like to ask," Morimoto began, with the sort of worryingly earnest expression that immediately set off warning bells in Omi's skull. It was the same expression he used when trying to weasel out of a shift at the Koneko.

"O-oh?" Omi did his best to keep wariness out of his voice and expression.

"It's Ayako's cousin," Ishikawa told him, gesturing to Tachibana. "She's transferring here next week."

Tachibana continued where Ishikawa left off. "We promised that we would get her a uniform, since there aren't any stores that carry them where she lives now."

Omi decided that he didn't like the direction in which this conversation was headed.

"Only Ayako forgot to ask for her sizes." There was an ominous pause. "And, well, you're about the same height..."

"Oh, no..." Omi began, but Morimoto cut him off.

"Oh, please, Tsukiyono-kun, it would be so much help..."

"It's not like anyone would find out, anyway," Ishikawa added.

Thinking back, Omi later realized that he should have known enough to run at those words. Alas, his own good nature and the persistence of the three girls eventually led to his capitulation.

Tachibana handed him a shopping bag. "Here it is," she said. Omi took the bag and left the classroom. It occurred to him that he could just leave, and the girls wouldn't realize that he was gone until he'd made it back to the Koneko. That was when he heard Morimoto's voice in the hall behind him.

"I think that they're cleaning the bathrooms right now," she called.

Omi ended up changing in the supply closet. Needless to say, he did not find this nearly as amusing as the girls seemed to.

"Tsukiyono-san! Are you ready yet?"

"Um...nearly," Omi called back, battling with the zipper on the skirt. It had to have been designed by a complete idiot, he decided. Who else would put loose, easily-caught fabric on all four sides of a zipper? He carefully tugged the cloth free and slid the zipper up slowly. Taking a deep breath, he brushed a hand down the front of the blouse he was wearing, and stepped out of the closet.

Tachibana squeaked and turned bright red. Ishikawa, on the other hand, sighed in an exasperated manner. "It just isn't fair that you look better in that uniform than I do."

Omi blinked. While he was still trying to string together an appropriate reply, Morimoto stepped forward and began scrutinizing him closely. "It looks like it's the right size," she finally said. "Would you mind walking around a little in it to make sure it's a comfortable fit?"

"Um, all right," Omi awkwardly stepped a few paces from the closet, hating the way that the skirt swished around his legs. He felt next to naked, and that wasn't a particularly comfortable sensation to have in the same room as three probably-evil girls.

"A little more than that, if you don't mind, Tsukiyono-san," Morimoto prodded.

Reluctantly, Omi moved further out into the room.

There was a crash from behind him.

"Oh, no!"

Omi turned slowly, not quite sure he wanted to know what had happened.

"I'm so sorry, Tsukiyono-san! I'll pay for the cleaning, I promise!"

Omi's gaze dropped from Ishikawa's face to the floor by her feet. It was spattered with blue paint.

It also happened to be where he had set his clothes.

The school nurse had already left for the day, and Omi didn't have his gym clothes with him. Figuring out how to drive his bike home in the skirt was interesting, to say the least. When he reached the Koneko, Omi jumped off of his bike and rushed inside as quickly as possible, slamming the door behind him.

He was met with the sort of ominous silence that precedes horrible catastrophes.

Slowly, he raised his eyes.

"_Shit._"

How could he have forgotten that this was "rush hour" at the flower shop?

What seemed like every single schoolgirl ever to set foot in the shop was currently staring at him. He had the distinct impression that they were gathering their collective breath to squeal. And of all people, it just _had_ to be _Ken_ gaping at him from behind the counter, didn't it?

Omi shrank back against the door, finally understanding how people could wish for the ground to open up and swallow them.

Ken pulled himself together and hurried out from behind the counter. "All right, I'm sorry, we're closed for today!" He reached the place where Omi was standing and took him by the shoulder. Ken led Omi quickly through the crowds of schoolgirls, all of who were protesting Ken's proclamation rather loudly.

"No, I'm sorry, you all need to leave _now_. Please put down any flowers you were thinking about buying. We'll hold onto them for you." He gently ushered Omi behind the counter, and then stood between him and the indignant fangirls.

Omi could have kissed him.

With painful slowness, the girls trickled out of the shop. When the last would-be customer was finally gone, Ken turned to Omi.

"_So_..."

"Don't ask," Omi interrupted. "_Please_ don't ask."

"Bad day?" Ken asked knowingly.

"You have no idea," Omi told him, sagging against the counter.

"Well. Why don't you go..." Ken eyed Omi's outfit, fighting back a smirk. "...er, change." The smirk overpowered him and escaped.

"If you laugh at me, Hidaka, I'll make sure you never have children." Omi was joking, of course. Mostly.

Ken raised his hands defensively. "Nobody's laughing!" He was, however, still grinning widely.

Omi narrowed his eyes, but smiled nonetheless. "Well, good." He headed upstairs, choosing to ignore the chuckles that erupted behind him as soon as he'd left the shop.

He made it to his room in record time, managing not to bump into Aya or Yohji along the way. He shucked off the uniform, quickly pulled on more normal clothing, and was about to leave when he noticed the note on his desk. He crossed the room and picked it up.

_Hey Omi_, it read_, you've seemed a little down lately, and I thought these might help._

_P.S. Thanks for the gardenia._

Omi looked back at his desk. Sure enough, where the note had rested, there lay three violets. _Cheer up_.

Omi smiled.

Maybe the universe didn't hate him quite as much as he had thought.

---_owari_---

So, that was poor Omi's horrible day. I hope it was fun to read, though.

Ambika-san


End file.
